Flashblind
by runtagua
Summary: This is a collection of Flash Fic written from various prompts gathered from several different blogs around the Universe. Flash Fic is a short story or scene, usually 100-300 words, inspired by a word or picture.
1. honeyfuck

She told me her name was Frankie and that she was sixteen. I laughed and told her that was a boy's name. She's warm and soft and, Christ, her tits are tiny buds – like maybe she just got them.

"Are you really sixteen, sugar?" She's above me, riding my cock. My thumbs drag across each stiff peak and I tug. I wouldn't care if she was fifteen. I've wanted this little honeyfuck in my bed since I saw her riding her bike in the neighborhood, tiny shorts and a bandana in her hair.

"Ung…" she grunts. I've rendered her speechless.

My hand skims up her chest and around her neck. She's riding me faster, dragging her clit against me when her hips glide upward. I skim my fingers lightly down her jaw and I push two into her mouth. Instantly, her walls tighten around me and my hips buck harder.

She's close, and so am I.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good. So tight."

"Oh, God… Oh… What… Fuck," she screams as her walls flutter and clench around me. Two more rough, deep thrusts and I'm spilling all I have into her.

I wonder if she's done this before.


	2. con

She watches the dealer place the last card on the table - the king of hearts. She takes a drag off of her cigarette and idly tugs at her earlobe. She's bored; or that's what she wants the other players at the table to think.

A call and a raise – the betting goes around the table until it finally gets to her. She simultaneously stubs out her cigarette and blows the hit of smoke out into the stale air. She pushes her last fifty thousand in chips into the center of the table.

All in.

Her eyes flicker up, over the heads of the faceless men at the table, to the man across the room, and down again. He's been standing at the door, watching her. Watching the cards. Just as the dealer calls for the players to reveal, he leaves. His job is done here; a plan to meet later.

This is it. This is what they've been working for all night.

The cards are turned out onto the table. A pair. Two pair. Three sevens. She sits up straight as she turns her two cards over.

Pocket kings.


	3. headlights

I feel like I've been walking for hours. The air is chilly tonight; my hood is up and my hands in my pockets, but I'm still walking. Somehow the cold is a reminder that this is real.

I can't fucking take any more. My head is spinning. I'm so fucking tired of her bullshit.

She says he doesn't mean anything to her, but I don't believe it. I know when I'm not around he's there, inserting himself into her life where I should be. I've seen that way they look at each other when they think my back is turned.

The headlights barely register in my peripheral vision. Sound is muted. My head snaps up when the acrid smoke of burning rubber gets into my nose. My eyes meet hers.

And I'm right back where I started.


	4. backseat

Light from the streetlamp streams in through fogged-up windows of my ride. We're parked at the end of the block, far enough away, but I can still hear the noises from the main drag.

"Get in the back seat" She doesn't question; she starts to move. "Wait. Take this off first."

My finger slides just under the hem of her skirt and I'm so fucking lost. She leans in to suck the last of the smoke from my mouth as her fingers work the zipper down. She's over the seat before I even open my eyes.

I'm up and over, too, and her hands make quick work of my buttonfly, pushing my jeans down my legs, just enough. She leans back and I lean in. Her calf comes around my waist and pulls me into her.

My girl is fucking eager.

She's slick and hot and warm and her pussy sucks me in. I press my lips to her neck and she's everywhere, fucking me right. My head is spinning. My movements slow.

I look into lust-bright eyes. "Turn over."

She twists and turns and looks over her shoulder. I lick the sweat from her spine and I'm in her again. I'm frantic. But this isn't how I want it.

I pull back just a little, just enough.

And I press.

She whimpers.

My palm trails up her smooth skin. I grasp the back of her neck. My lips need to be on skin, my tongue needs to taste her.

"Shhh, baby. It'll be our secret."

And I press.

And I feel everything. She's all around me, like smoke, and I explode.

My girl slumps forward on the seat.

Panting.

Sated.

I watch my cum drip from her ass.

Filled.


	5. clothesline

It's Wednesday. Laundry day. I watch my neighbor from my kitchen window, hanging her laundry to dry in the early morning sunshine: sheets and towels, dresses… her panties. She hangs those up all in a row, always on the line furthest from the house, at the back of her yard, always last.

I take one last sip and put my coffee cup in the sink, my half-hard dick pressing against the edge of the counter.

A car door slams, an engine roars. I'm out the back door and over the fence before I even realize.

I weave through the labyrinth of bright linen and gauze until I find pink cotton and white lace. I'm totally hard now. I reach up and remove a pair of panties from the line and inhale their scent. My other hand stokes my cock over my jeans. In my mind she's wearing these and I'm kneeling before her, inhaling _her _scent. My tongue laps at the soft cotton over her clit.

I press and stroke harder, harder still, and groan.

I come.

A gasp and I turn to creamy skin and hair haloed in sunshine.

"Edward?"

"Bella. I…"


End file.
